A Perfect Storm
by bccaw
Summary: SSHG. "A Perfect Storm and Other Short Fics." A collection of one-shot scenes. Fluff, romance, and humor.
1. A Perfect Storm

_Here is a quick one-shot that wanted to be written. Hermione has been caught out on the grounds of Hogwarts in a sudden storm, and Severus is waiting for her to return. _

_To any readers of my chaptered fics, namely Cursed Book II: I am still alive! I will be updating! Life is complicated. Here is a little treat for you, for waiting so patiently. _

* * *

**A Perfect Storm**

He was standing at the doors, waiting for her, a moody figure under a dark sky.

"What happened?"

"I should th-think it was obvious," she stuttered as her teeth chattered. "I got c-caught in the rain."

"Yes," he said with exaggerated patience, "but what is not obvious, is why you have forgotten how to perform an effective repelling charm. As I recall, you were once quite good with them."

He removed his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders, drawing her under the roof with him. She closed her eyes and inhaled his familiar scent. She looked up. A drop of water slid down her nose and fell. His hands were still on her arms, holding the cloak around her.

Hermione sighed heavily in defeat.

"A hippogriff stole my wand," she mumbled. Hagrid was the only person who found Aggie's newest trick amusing.

His face was hidden by his hair as he looked down at her, but she saw him smirk.

"Ah. In that case, it would seem that I am only the member of the faculty who has yet to be outsmarted by a hippogriff. I must inform Minerva and collect my winnings."

Hermione folded her arms, shivering again. She took a tiny step back and sniffed.

"Yes, I suppose you must."

A gust of wind blew icy rain at her exposed neck. She winced. The water slowly ran down her back.

He seemed to be amused.

"Hm... I think not."

Hermione frowned, suspicious.

"What? Why not?"

He slid one arm around her under the cloak, placing his hand at the center of her back, and pulled her forward. Hermione stared up at him, trying to make out the expression on his face.

"Not just yet," he said, pulling her closer still. She unfolded her arms as they were pinned between their bodies, forced to rest her hands on his chest. His hair brushed her cheek, whipped by the wind.

"Severus, I..."

She felt his grip on her tighten, and she closed her eyes. She must remember to breathe.

"Do stop talking for a moment, Hermione," he said, voice rumbling, breath tickling her face before he claimed her mouth.

Minutes later, they were interrupted by the clatter of Hermione's wand hitting the steps at their feet.

Hermione turned to see Aggie watching them, unperturbed by the raging storm.

"Damn infernal creature," Severus said mildly.

Hermione grinned.

"Thank you, Agatha."

She picked up her wand and threw it as hard as she could into the wind.

"Fetch!"


	2. Silence is Golden

**Silence is Golden**

"Crookshanks! Stop it!"

Her kneazle was not as quick for forgive as she was, it seemed. He was trying his hissing, growling best to keep her from answering the door. There was no doubt as to who stood on the other side.

Hermione shut Crookshanks in the bedroom and hurried back to the door, wondering how Severus would react to her attire. Her fuzzy golden robe was not revealing by any means, but he had rarely seen her in less than a full school uniform or professor's robes.

His cheeks turned pink immediately, and then he scowled at her. Anyone else might have laughed. Her favorite robe made her look more like an overgrown, molting canary than anything else. It was worn in places and left bits of yellow fuzz in her hair. She kept it mainly to annoy her mother whenever she went home for a visit.

"What on earth are you wearing, Granger?"

"My robe," she had said haughtily, folding her arms. "I was not expecting to see anyone at this hour."

He made no further comment, but cleared his throat.

"I – must ask you – if you will supervise the students in Hogsmeade tomorrow," he said. "My interview has been rescheduled."

"I see," she said, suppressing a smile. "Well. It was thoughtful of you to inform me yourself. I do hate hearing it from other people when you've left me your responsibilities. Very well. I have no objection to the task."

"Very well. Your help is appreciated."

"Goodnight, Severus. Do be careful. Journalists should not be underestimated."

She closed the door on his smirking face before she could give into temptation and throw herself into his arms. She sighed and settled into her comfy chair. Seconds later, there was another knock at the door. From the bedroom, Crookshanks yowled angrily.

Hermione opened to door to see Severus standing there as if he had not moved an inch.

"Incidentally, I believe you left this in the library earlier," he said, a peculiar expression on his face.

He held up a small book - a small, black, leather-bound book. Hermione tried to stay composed as her heart began to pound. How had her journal ended up in the library?

"Oh. Er- thank you, Severus."

He smirked again, amusement in his eyes.

He had read it. Of course he had read it.

Hermione took the journal from his outstretched hand and slid it into the large pocket of her robe with as much dignity as she could muster. She repressed the urge to slam the door in his face before he could see the blush beginning to warm her cheeks. At least her ears were covered by her freshly washed hair; they always gave her away.

"Well – ah – goodnight, then," she said, inching backwards.

"Goodnight, Hermione," he said, fixing her with a steady gaze that seemed to glue her feet to the floor.

Moments later, she watched him walk away, thinking of what was written in the journal and feeling quite warm.

After only a few steps, he whirled back around to face her.

"I did not realize that you wrote fiction," he said, a familiar glint in his eyes. "You are quite prolific for one so young. Do you plan to publish those works as well?"

Hermione's face burned, but she smiled at him in what she hoped was an alluring manner.

"Don't be ridiculous, Severus. That was only my dream journal. I've been keeping it all year."

She shut the door again before he could reply. It was cruel to tease him so, but he really should not have read her journal.

There was a single, sharp knock on the door.

Hermione grinned, and flung it open.

"You-"

She silenced him with her mouth, and not another word was said on the matter that night.


	3. A Modest Proposal

**A Modest Proposal**

"I thought that you were in London."

Severus stopped halfway up the staircase. She was at the bottom, looking up, her hands on her hips.

"I was," he said. "My errands were accomplished more easily than I had anticipated."

Her eyes narrowed.

"What are you hiding, Severus Snape?"

She stalked up the stairs toward him.

"You have gone out of your way to avoid me lately, which can only mean that whatever you're up is going to make my life more difficult. The last time you did this, I ended up teaching first-year potions for a month."

"An astute observation, my dear," he said. "You may be correct."

He reached out to grasp her hands.

"However," he continued, "I had hoped you might be willing to take on this particular challenge. You are the only witch capable of it."

He took one of her hands in both of his and pressed a wrapped item into her palm, closing her fingers around it before she could examine it. She tried to pull her hand away immediately, but he held it and waited until she looked at him.

"What is this?"

He drew his wand out and tapped it on her closed fist. Then he turned her hand over and kissed the back, watching her eyes soften immediately.

"You got me a present?" she asked, opening her fingers to reveal a tiny package wrapped in plain brown paper.

She laughed.

"This had better not be another cauldron plate. I told you I would never teach potions again, and I meant it. Shall I enlarge it, then?"

"Allow me," Severus said. He flicked his wand at her hand.

The paper unfolded like a flower in bloom. At it's center was an elegant gold ring with a pale stone that glowed faintly, even in the shadows of the staircase.

She was silent, head bowed, staring at the object in her palm.

It was not how he had planned to do it. He had not planned to ask her until the students were gone.

"This is..." she breathed, then jerked her head up to study him, wide-eyed. "Severus, is this what I think it is?"

"It was my great-grandmother's," he said, "My mother had it in her possession until my third year, when she sold it to a Muggle woman in a pawn shop."

Hermione held the ring up, turning it in the light. The stone teased their eyes with hints of pale greens, yellows, and rose that disappeared almost before they could be identified. If one looked at it directly for any length of time it would glow, pearly and somewhat translucent, but stubbornly refuse to show it's colors.

"And you found it. How – how long have you been looking?"

"The goblins found it," said Severus, evading her question. "Though it was a difficult search, even for them."

"It's beautiful."

"Yes," he said, taking it back impatiently. "And even more so when it is worn."

He grasped her left hand and held the ring up to her finger.

"May I?"

She smiled.

"I do believe that may be the shortest proposal anyone has ever heard, Severus; likewise, my answer."

She slipped her finger into the ring and kissed him passionately.


	4. Yet Unanswered

**Yet Unanswered**

"WHAT?"

"Harry, please calm down!"

Hermione held the phone receiver away from her ear.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, Harry, but it wasn't something I wanted to write in a letter. Besides, it would have only made you angry, and that would have been counter-productive to soul-searching in the wilderness."

Harry was quiet.

"How long has this – er – how long have you been – uh – seeing him?"

Hermione sighed, and kept her distance from the phone.

"A year tomorrow."

"WHAT?"

"You've been away for almost two years, Harry! I saw you last year with Ron and Ginny at the Burrow, just before you left for this trip... trek... thing. I couldn't bring it up then, not in front of everyone, and at that time I hardly thought it would become... what it is."

She took a breath.

"Harry, we're getting married."

A choking noise preceded Harry's reply.

"No. No, Hermione. Not to Snape. You just can't. He hates the rest of us!"

"You know that's not true. Harry, I read the reply he sent to your letter."

"He lets you read his letters?"

"No, of course not. He doesn't know about that."

"Hermione!"

She laughed.

"That was the only time I did it; the temptation was just too great. Actually, that was when I fell for him, so I have you to thank for that, Harry!"

Harry made a disgusted noise and mumbled something unintelligible.

"I am sorry," Hermione repeated. "Ginny only found out a few weeks ago, when she got back, and Ron still doesn't know. Perhaps you should tell him, seeing as how we are still not on speaking terms."

Harry just grunted.

"Can't you be happy for me?" Hermione prodded, her voice faltering a little. Ginny had been less angry, but more disgusted. She liked pretty Quidditch boys, after all, and thought everyone else ought to as well.

Harry sighed.

"If you're happy, Hermione... with him... then I guess I'm happy for you; but I'm_ not_ happy about the idea of Snape... just when I thought I would never have to see Snape again, _you_ decide to marry him!"

There was a pause, and Hermione waited.

"One of my best friends likes Snape better than me!"

Still Hermione waited.

"And you say he's different, but I haven't seen him since the war ended. He was still a nasty git, as I recall. You can't expect me to be happy about this!"

The silence stretched on.

Harry sighed again.

"I mean... you can't expect me to be happy about it... _yet._"

"Yet," repeated Hermione, smiling.

"Not yet, Hermione."

"I can live with that."


	5. Like Mother, Like Daughter

"What are you doing?"

Hermione was lying face-down on her mother's cream bedroom carpet. The lights were off, and until her mother had interrupted her, Hermione had been staring at the line of light that marked the bottom edge of the door.

"Hiding," Hermione said, her voice muffled by the carpet.

"Might I ask why?"

"Dad. He wants to have another talk."

"Hmm."

Hermione sat up and yawned.

"Well, your father is very concerned about you, Hermione, as I am."

Her mother sat carefully on the bed and looked down at her.

"You aren't as upset as Dad," Hermione remarked, "Why haven't you yelled at me yet?"

"I'm not going to yell at you, Hermione." She rolled her eyes, a habit her husband found ridiculously juvenile.

"But... why not? Don't you think I'm making a terrible mistake? That I need to get away from Hogwarts and see the world and date lots of handsome young men before I – uh – make this commitment?"

Mrs. Granger just smiled faintly.

"Perhaps I do. But I don't think it will do any good to tell you so. Your father has said enough for both of us."

Hermione watched her mother suspiciously, waiting for her to snap and tell Hermione how foolish it would be to marry Severus Snape – Professor Snape, as her parents still called him.

"Mum... what do you think of Severus?"

"Hmm. He's on the tall side of average. He's too thin. Atrocious teeth. He is antisocial and often rude, and he wears too much black, even for a wizard. I've only met the man twice, so that's all I can say about him at the moment."

There was a pause.

"How can you love this man, Hermione?"

Hermione stood up.

"Because. Because he's brilliant and creative and talented. Because he trusts me. Because he saved my life and the lives of countless others. Because I can make him smile. Because I can have an intelligent conversation with him! Because he sees who I really am. Because he's not impressed by my fame and my friends. Because... well, everything. You'll see. Because, Mum, he loves me."

Her mother stood and hugged her.

"And he's not too old," said Hermione, remembering her father's reaction when he realized that his future son-in-law was closer to his own age than to his daughter's. "Large ages differences are much more common in wizarding society."

"If it helps, dear, I thought he was at least five years younger. Not a gray hair on his head. But I suppose magic keeps one looking youthful."

Hermione sighed and smiled.

"It's true. Good thing for me, since you and Dad both went gray so early!"

Her mother rolled her eyes again and patted her hair.

"Nothing a little non-magical potion can't fix," she said.

"So... you're really okay with this? How shall we tell Dad that he's on his own?

"Oh, he knows, Hermione. He's known all along."

Hermione frowned.

"What?"

Mrs. Granger smiled.

"I never told you, but the year after I finished University, I dated one of my former professors. It was a short affair – I met your father a few months later. I sometimes wonder, if things had happened differently..."

"Mum!" Hermione gasped.


End file.
